Songs Can Say a Thousand Words
by halfbloodprincess725
Summary: Basically a collection of one-shots about Hayffie...but they're all based off of songs. You can leave me a song request if you'd like
1. You and I

_Alright, so I find myself doing a lot of Hayffie one-shots based off of songs, so I just figured "Why not make a collection of it?" Here it is! This is a collection of one-shots based off of songs that I think describe Hayffie—with a little prompt included :) Hope you enjoy!_

 _This first one-shot is from the song_ "You and I" _by Lady Gaga. This isn't really a prompt, per say, but each string of lyrics is going to have a memory of Effie's that involve her and Haymitch. I hope you enjoy!_

 _ **You and I**_

 _It's been a long time since I came around_

 _Been a long time but I'm back in town_

 _This time I'm not leaving without you_

Effie Trinket stepped off the train onto the rotting wooden platform. She breathed in the scent of coal and fresh air.

"Hello, District 12," she said out loud to no one in particular. "You're looking well." In truth, it was. After the war, resources and goods were distributed more equally among the Districts, so 12 was getting more and more lively. The refugees from 13 had all come up from underground bunkers to help rebuild the district after the bombings.

Effie made her way out of the train station, pulling her luggage behind her. Even though it had been years since she last walked on this soil, she remembered it well. She remembered the first Reaping she had overseen. She remembered Katniss and Peeta, and wondered how they turned out. But most of all, she remembered the victor that helped her get through her days—good and bad.

High heels crunched under gravel, but soon moved to the softness of grass when Effie came across the Victors' Village. Serious renovations had been done; marble now encased the welcome sign, and there was a bit of gold here and there. The houses were looking clean and fresh, much to Effie's liking. There was one house in particular that caught Effie's attention.

It looked identical to all the others, but there was a decaying look to it. The victor inside never liked cleaning ladies, and he never did the work himself. However, Effie beamed when she saw the familiar "1" posted on the door.

Butterflies occupied her stomach as she climbed the stone steps. It seemed like it had been forever since she walked this path, and she still wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do. Tentatively, she reached out a hand to ring the doorbell. She could hear it echo throughout the house, followed by muffled grumbling and cursing. Effie took a deep breath when she heard the lock click and saw the door swing open.

"Effie," the man in the doorway froze, blowing his blonde hair out of his face. He was holding a half-full liquor bottle in one hand, the other was placed on the door frame to steady himself. He was no doubt drunk, but that was the last thing on Effie's mind as she felt a smile slowly spread across her face.

"Haymitch," she breathed.

 _You taste like whiskey when you kiss me, oh_

 _I'd give anything again to be your baby doll_

 _This time I'm not leaving without you_

Colorful lights and loud music filled the room. Champagne glasses were thrown into the air, a clear liquid flying out of it onto the drunk citizens below. Effie stared at the commotion unwind in front of her, silently cursing Haymitch for dragging her to this party. It was a celebration of all the male victors from all the districts. Although these people wanted to kill each other years ago, they still had one thing in common: getting hopelessly drunk.

"Hey, sweetheart!" A voice rambled next to Effie's ear. She turned to see a staggering Haymitch try and fail to sit on the stool next to her. "You're missing the party…live a little." He offered her his glass, which she declined. He must have been drunk beyond repair because he would _never_ willingly share alcohol. Instead, Effie stood up and grabbed Haymitch by the arms.

"I think it's time to say goodnight, Haymitch. We have a busy day tomorrow," Effie was struggling under his weight. Thankfully, no one was paying attention to the two.

"I don't want to," Haymitch whined, purposely making himself heavy. Effie practically dropped him in her attempts to balance them. She leaned in close to his ear to make sure he heard her.

"If you do what I say, we will have a _very_ busy day tomorrow. We could even start tonight," she whispered in a low voice, with as much sexiness as she could muster. That got Haymitch's attention. He stared her up and down and smirked. No further words were needed as Effie dragged him to the elevators.

Once the subtle _ding_ signaled they were closed, Haymitch turned to an out of breath Effie. "What are we waiting for, sweetheart? Let's get started." He came forward, pinning Effie against the elevator wall, and pressing his lips against hers. She found that familiar taste of whiskey in his breath, and breathed in the scent that was so _Haymitch_. Haymitch may have been drunk on liquor, but Effie was drunk on euphoria. She loved the fact that he was still into her, even after all these years of putting up with her persistent attitude. However, she couldn't keep this up for the night. Effie pulled away, much to Haymitch's disliking.

"That's enough for tonight," Effie chided.

"You tricked me," Haymitch whined. He didn't look mad, just dejected.

"You need a bath," she shot back.

 _You said sit back down where you belong_

 _In the corner of my bar with your high heels on_

Haymitch shot up from his bed, knife in hand. He was startled awake by the sound of glass breaking. Armed and ready, he made his way downstairs to his mini-bar where he kept his most prized alcohol. He expected to see a thief try and take the expensive liquor. He half-expected Ripper to be in his house, trying to take back the powerful stuff that he had "borrowed." What he didn't expect to see was Effie Trinket pouring herself a large glass of vodka, and making quite a mess.

"What the hell are you doing in my bar at one in the morning, Trinket?" Haymitch demanded. He set down the knife on the nearby table, crossing his arms instead. Effie was shocked to see him and gave a little jump when he spoke. She was still in her fancy Capitol getup—five inch heels, tight dress, and very showy wig. Her makeup, however, looked smeared and out of place. She couldn't make eye contact with him, but in the dim light, Haymitch could see that she had been crying.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I just-I started to have nightmares again. I was about to go to bed and I didn't want to wake you so I figured to come down here to drink myself to sleep." Haymitch clucked his tongue in disapproval.

"Sweetheart, if you try and drink yourself to sleep, you're going to end up drinking yourself to death." He saw the vodka bottle that was resting by her hands. "Dammit, Effie, that was my best vodka, too." Effie only furrowed her eyebrows.

"You only drink whiskey," she spat. She wasn't looking to get into an argument in the middle of the night, but she could tell that's where their conversation was headed by the look on Haymitch's face. But his expression softened; he must have been thinking the same exact thing.

"If you wanted a drink," Haymitch started, circling around the bar as if he were the tender, "you should have _at least_ had the decency to invite me." He smirked, as Effie sat on a stool, crossing her legs.

"Now, Miss. Trinket," Haymitch started. Effie was a little taken aback at what he had just called her. He had never called her anything proper. Even when they first met he stuck with "Trinket" or "you there." Haymitch had bottles or alcohol strewn across the table, displaying all the choices to Effie. "Pick your poison."

 _There's something, something about this place_

 _Something about lonely nights and my lipstick on your face_

It had been a rough night. Effie had dragged Haymitch to the "biggest celebration of the year" in the Capitol. He had gotten hopelessly drunk, and from the party Effie then had to drag him back to his penthouse, force him to shower, and then strip him of his alcohol soaked clothes. She'd still never forgive him for spilling whiskey all over her favorite dress.

And somehow Haymitch had managed to seduce Effie and had her participate in events that they certainly wouldn't be doing if he was sober. Before he could do anything more, Effie had left his bedroom and gone to the guestroom. She figured it was going to be a long night.

It was well past midnight when Effie awoke with a scream. She was still having nightmares, even though she did everything to calm herself down and get rid of those horrible memories. It wasn't long before Haymitch rushed into the room, brandishing a knife. When he saw it was only Effie in the room, he relaxed. There were tears developing in her eyes as she hugged herself and silently begged Haymitch to sit near the bed. But he did more than that. He sat next to her on the bed and pulled her into a tight embrace. Before she could start crying, Haymitch leaned into her ear.

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe. I'm here," Haymitch coaxed. He kept repeating himself until Effie pulled away and looked up at him. Before saying anything, she brushed her lips against his own. He reacted immediately, gently pulling her in for something deeper. It wasn't long before they were both panting, lying side by side, having completed round two.

When the sun came up, Effie was the first to rise. She shifted under the blankets so she could face Haymitch, and almost had a laughing fit when she saw the condition he was in. Somewhere between "lightly kissing" and "both of us are naked", there must have been a point of "brutally making out", because all of Haymitch's lower face was covered in bright red lipstick and white powder. It wasn't long before Haymitch woke up from Effie's insistent giggling. He rushed to the bathroom to see what the big deal was, and Effie counted to three before she heard a resounding,

"Dammit, Trinket!"

 _There's something, something about my cool Nebraska guy_

 _Yeah, something about, baby, You and I_

Not a day could go by without Haymitch arguing about the way Effie dressed or her obsession with schedules and manners, but there came a point where Effie stopped being affected and just retaliated. That was the epitome of their relationship. Flirt, argue, sex, repeat. And that was perfectly okay. However, over the past year, Effie had started to regard Haymitch as more than just someone to get by on. She started to see him from a different angle—one where his disheveled look was becoming attractive. Whenever he called her "sweetheart", she took that as a challenge.

Once Haymitch caught on to her changing feelings for him, he tried not to admit that he was discovering the same thing. She was no longer this stuck-up Capitol freak. She was a blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty that just covered everything up because she was insecure. And Haymitch did everything in his power to make sure she didn't feel that way. That she realized how beautiful she actually was. It worked. Then, their kisses became slow and elongated, rather than quick and fierce. They cherished the moments they had together, and hated it when Katniss or Peeta needed a favor. They were becoming the average, lovesick, teenage couple, but that was okay.

And one day, Haymitch finally had the courage to get down on one knee with a diamond ring and a question. And on that very same day, Effie said "yes".

 _Alright so I hoped you liked that first one-shot! I like this idea of making songs into one-shots, and the collection I'm doing. If you guys have any song suggestions or want to see something happen, just leave a review or PM me. Thanks!_


	2. Hide from the Scarecrow

_Here's addition 2 of this collection of Hayffie song prompts :) The song is_ S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W _by_ My Chemical Romance. _This song was requested by_ _ **BlackCat46,**_ _who is just so sweet and leaves amazing reviews._

 _Anyway here you go (some parts of this won't follow the plot of the books/movies exactly, but they're still the same concept.)_

 _ **Hide from the Scarecrow**_

 _Move your body when the sunlight dies_

 _Everybody hide your body from the scarecrow_

 _Everybody hide_

Effie watched in horror as Katniss once again defied the Capitol and shot her arrow into the sky. Her eyes followed the arrow's blinking tip, signifying an explosion about to occur, and held her breath when the point connected with the "clouds". The arena exploded. Fire lit up the TV screen and loud booms resonated throughout the audio box. Effie's perfectly manicured hand flew to her mouth to stifle the gasp. A moment of rage flickered in her mind, but it quickly died down. Anger turned to worry. Worry turned to despair.

"Katniss," Effie scolded quietly. "Ever since the Victory Tour, ever since you _ignored_ my cards everything—"

"Effie, we need to leave," a deep voice startled her. She whipped her head around to face Haymitch, who was sweating and frantically running around the house.

"What?" Effie's heart was still racing in her chest from the minor palpitation Haymitch had just given her.

"I'll explain later. We have to leave. _Now._ " Haymitch growled forcefully, practically yanking Effie off the couch. She straightened her dress and wig and headed to the stairs. "Where are you going?"

"I need to gather my things. I'll be right down," she responded, becoming very agitated with Haymitch's demanding attitude.

"Sweetheart, because Katniss had her little genius idea to blow up the arena, Peacekeepers are being sent out to collect anyone who was ever affiliated with her. They've already got Cinna and Portia. I don't know if they're still alive, but they'll be lucky if they get put into torture. Now, just imagine what they'll do to you and me once they barge through the doors." Haymitch was breathing heavily. He had a very strong grip on Effie's wrist, trying to keep her from running upstairs. She gave a quick, single nod and followed Haymitch out the door.

"But," Effie was still extremely puzzled, "where are we going? How will we survive? Is Katniss alive?" Haymitch ignored all but one question.

"We're going to District 13," he stated simply.

 _Make a wish when your childhood dies_

 _Hear a knock, knock, knock when she cries_

 _We're all alone tonight_

Haymitch didn't want to remember the time he was forced into an arena. Forced to kill innocent people. Forced to participate in the Capitol's little game. And yet, he found himself watching the rerun of the 50th Hunger Games late into the night. For some reason, he couldn't fall asleep and wasn't sure if it was the buzz of alcohol or the fact that Katniss and Peeta would be entering their own Hunger Games in less than 12 hours.

He watched in disgust as he saw his sixteen year old self running around—killing people nonetheless—scared to death. The knife in his belt was dripping blood and his shirt was stained crimson. Haymitch's insides turned at the thought that by the next day, Peeta's shirt could be colored the same way. He finally realized that this world wasn't a joke anymore. Ever since he won the second Quarter Quell, he understood that the Hunger Games was some kind of twisted, demonic excuse to watch children die for fun.

Haymitch remembered everything up to the moment he was reaped. He laughed around with his brother, learned a few combat skills from his father, and sometimes his mother had forced him to cook with her. Ever since he was placed in that bloody arena, he was stripped of a proper childhood. He just wished to reverse the clocks to save himself the pain and guilt of having killed so many young people.

 _Knock, knock, knock._ Haymitch jumped out of his seat. He had been so engaged in his thoughts and the TV that the outside world became invisible. Grumbling slightly, he got up to see who was causing a commotion at two in the morning. When he opened the door, he came face to face with a sobbing Effie. The first thing he noticed was that she wasn't wearing a wig or makeup. He pushed that to the back of his mind.

"Princess, what's wrong?" He furrowed his eyebrows. Effie rushed into his room, almost collapsing in his arms.

"I can't do it anymore, Haymitch," she choked on her tears. "I can't send innocent children into a battle I _know_ they'll lose." Effie was half-right. District 12 always had the worst tributes—Haymitch had to admit. He placed bets with the other victors on how long they would last, which of the two would survive longer, and things of that nature. However, Haymitch—while drunk during the reaping—had noticed a certain fire in Katniss.

Haymitch had nothing to say. He just kissed the top of her head and let himself be her shoulder to cry on.

 _Hold your breath when a black bird flies_

 _Count to seventeen and close your eyes_

 _I'll keep you safe inside_

 _"The doors will be closing in sixty seconds."_ A loud robotic voice filled the stone chambers of District 13. Cement was already starting to crack from the bombings taking place above. In exactly a minute, everyone who wasn't inside the safety bunkers would be dead within seconds. And Haymitch had exactly one minute to find Effie and get her to safety.

He struggled against the crowd of people rushing to their only means of survival. He screamed Effie's name, knowing full well that she couldn't hear him over the chaos. Halfway up all the staircases in 13, he spotted her, slowly and carefully making her way downstairs. In her arms was a pile of dresses and wigs. Haymitch grit his teeth as he sprinted up the remaining stairs.

" _Thirty seconds,"_ the voice reminded the shouting people. Haymitch reached Effie and knocked the box out of her hands so he could latch on to her arm.

"Haymitch, really!" Effie squealed, somehow louder than everyone else. "Those were _expensive_." Haymitch glared at her.

"Are you kidding me, sweetheart?" He growled. "We're in a life or death situation and you're choosing death just because of your stupid dresses?"

Effie looked horrified. "They are anything but—"

 _"Ten seconds."_

That warning was when Haymitch swept Effie off her feet and bolted as fast as he could down the stairs, to the large rock wall that was closing in fast.

 _"Five…four…three—"_

Haymitch made it in before "two". He continued to carry Effie until they were in the far back of the bunker. He found a bed to place her on, and instead of leaving, moved in right alongside of her.

All the emotions and events caught on to Effie and she started to breath rapidly. Haymitch wrapped his arms around her shoulders and she rested her head in the gap between his collarbone and neck. Although she was hyperventilating, tears hadn't started to fall. Haymitch took that as a good sign.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized out of thin air. "I don't know what I was thinking, grabbing my dresses." She sounded disgusted with herself. "Thank you, for coming after me." She looked at Haymitch properly. He smirked.

"Don't mention it, sweetheart," he could barely get the words out when a deafening bang shook the bunker. Effie gripped Haymitch's arm tighter. He glanced at her and noticed her eyes were squeezed shut and she was counting silently. In all honesty, he thought it was rather dumb, but whatever helped her calm down, he was okay with. Another bomb shook the foundation.

"Haymitch," Effie started. Her eyes were still shut, but she was able to tell that the third bomb that had hit had killed the power. "I'm scared." She whispered so quietly it was almost impossible to hear her. She didn't hear a response from Haymitch, prompting her to open her eyes. When she did, she felt his lips against hers. Jumping back from the surprise at first, but then she let herself sink into his embrace.

 _Heat burns my skin_ _  
_ _Never mind about shape I'm in_ _  
_ _I'll keep you safe tonight, yeah, yeah_ _  
_ _Safe tonight_

"Haymitch, don't," Effie warned. Haymitch had his hand along the top buttons of her blouse, ready to undo them and attack. She shivered under his touch—something she rarely did—and was less eager to share their bed tonight. Haymitch pulled his hand back in confusion. Effie stared at the sheets rather than his eyes. His shirt was already off and thrown on the floor, but she had every piece of clothing still on her body. "The marks…" she trailed off. Ever since the rebellion started, Effie had been confined to torture. She was beat, bruised, cut, and abused and the moment Haymitch found out, he wanted to kill everyone in the Capitol.

For two months, since she had been rescued, Effie was careful not to let Haymitch see any bare skin but her forearms, face, and lower legs.

"Sweetheart," he tried to comfort her, "you're still beautiful. I don't care if they cut off your arm. That's not going to stop me from wanting to kiss you every time I look at you." Effie blushed under his gaze. She shifted a bit closer to him, building up the courage she had left.

"Alright," she said quietly, starting to undo the first button of her blouse. "But-but don't run away screaming in terror. I'm horrendous now." She looked to the point of tears, but managed to control them. Haymitch finished unclasping the buttons and pulled off her shirt gently. He understood what she meant by "ugly". There were white bumps and lines all over her torso, from her collarbone to her waist. Effie squirmed uncomfortably.

"Stop moving," Haymitch lightly demanded. He put on hand on her waist and the other traced a scar on her collarbone. He leaned in and started lightly kissing every single piece of skin that was ruined. Effie shuddered, but Haymitch could tell that this was the good time. "You're still gorgeous."

 _Remember, if you have any song requests you can PM me or leave me a review xD_


	3. It Will Rain

_Next song:_ "It Will Rain" _by_ Bruno Mars _. This was just a heartbreaking song and we need some sadness in every relationship right? (lol I'd prefer if we didn't) Enjoy!_

 _ **It Will Rain**_

 _If you ever leave me, baby_

 _Leave some morphine at my door_

 _Cause it'll take a whole lot of medication_

 _To realize what we used to have, we don't_

 _Have it anymore_

"Haymitch, I can't do it anymore," Effie's voice was firm and hard. She felt a lump in her throat as she looked into his sad eyes. For years, they had been trying to hide their affairs, but now that Katniss and Peeta were having difficulty with their relationship, everyone was turning to the mentor and escort for support. They couldn't get away from the attention, and one night at a party, Haymitch had accidently gone a little too far. All in plain sight of the most famous Capitol gossip writers. Now, it was only a matter of time before the president himself found out.

"Do what, sweetheart?" Haymitch was trying to pretend like he didn't care, but both of them knew that was the opposite of the truth. He didn't want her to leave. He had finally found a reason to quit drinking as much. He had someone to protect at night, someone to share his bed with when the nightmares were too much for him.

"I can't do… _us_ ," Effie sounded exasperated and she was breathing heavily. "Because of that one night at that party, half the Capitol and most of the Districts realize that Katniss and Peeta aren't the only ones in love—"

"I never said I loved you," Haymitch said, a little too forcefully. He regretted the words as soon as he saw the damage he had done. Effie had stepped back, eyes shining with tears.

"That's beside the point," Effie tried to compose herself and find a retort, however, Haymitch's words had just cut through her like a knife. "If we continue our little act, Haymitch, who knows what _they_ will do to get through to you. Or me for that matter. I couldn't live with myself if I lost the only person I've cared for because I was selfish enough to keep them for pleasure." Effie referred to "they" as being President Snow and his Peacekeepers.

"Is that what I am to you?" Haymitch spat. "Something for pleasure?" He had no idea where these random remarks were coming from. Effie was crying and looked uncomfortable, and all he cared about was getting the last word in. All he knew was that half of the things he was saying didn't make sense. There was a long pause before Effie stepped inches away from Haymitch, leaning in. He did everything in his power not to grab her and kiss her and never let go. He wanted to take back the hurtful things he had just said. He wanted a clean slate.

"You and I both know that once Katniss is done with her little show the first person they're going after is the person who sent her into the arena in the first place. If I'm lucky, I can start a new life in the Capitol, forget that all of this ever happened, and have my old friends and family back," Effie whispered. She was looking at the ground, but she could tell that Haymitch had all eyes on her. Suddenly he lost control. He rushed in to get one last kiss, only to be halted by a hand on his chest. He looked into Effie's teary, bloodshot eyes.

"Goodbye, Haymitch," she said one final time and walked out the door.

From then on, Haymitch did nothing but drink. He tried to drink to forget her, but every time he was hopelessly drunk, something in his mind brought back the memories of Effie taking care of him; stripping him, cleaning him, and making sure that he had a safe, warm place to sleep off the alcohol. But every day was the same. He would drink in the afternoon until night, pass out in the living room, and wake up with a massive hangover. He repeated that routine for so long that he went into withdrawals when he was an hour late for his afternoon whiskey.

But nothing helped. No amount of alcohol in the world would make Effie march through his front door.

 _There's no religion that can save me_

 _No matter how much my knees are on the floor_

 _So keep in mind all the sacrifices I'm makin'_

 _To keep you by my side, to keep you from_

 _Walking out the door_

Haymitch didn't know how long he had spent in the hospital. He had been in the pearly white room, watching over Effie, ever since Plutarch gave him the call that they found her. She had been in District 12 when the bombings started to occur, scouring the old Justice Building for who knows what. Luckily, she was one of the few who survived. Unluckily, she had escaped with bruises, burns, and cuts. According to Plutarch, Effie was found unconscious near the outskirts of the District.

"Sweetheart," Haymitch breathed. He was on the floor, kneeling next to the bed. Effie was being pumped with oxygen and water through an IV tube, barely sustaining her own life. His rough hand was gripping her smooth, frail one. Haymitch had tears dripping down his cheeks, making the white sheets wet. This was one of the few times in his life he had cried. "I don't want to lose you."

Haymitch felt guilty, like her injuries were his fault. The last time Effie had seen Haymitch was before Katniss and Peeta had entered the arena during the Quarter Quell. He had been drunk, not to Effie's surprise, and she had been in hysterics. She had told him that she needed to go back to the Capitol for some business. Something to get her mind off the Games. She was crying and begging Haymitch to help the kids as much as he could, but Haymitch had had enough of her nagging. He had exploded, right in the middle of the apartment, scaring Effie away. The last words he remembered her saying were "I hate you."

Those three words rang in Haymitch's ears. They echoed throughout his head when Plutarch said Effie might not live. He couldn't shake them off. Effie had claimed she hated him many times before, but at the end of the day, she was laying next to him in bed saying "I love you." However, those final words she gave him unearthed a sick feeling in his stomach. He felt as if she meant them, and would never forgive him. Now, it was too late.

"I'm sorry, Effie," Haymitch started, a fresh wave of tears developing. "I'm so, so sorry for screaming and yelling at you like that. I was drunk and I- I just didn't want you to leave." He heard slight beeps and checked the heart rate monitor. Effie's heart rate was speeding up a bit. Perhaps she could hear him, and was trying to communicate.

"I don't want you to go. I've done so much to help everybody. I've done my job as a mentor. I've been Katniss and Peeta's friend. I just want you to realize that." Haymitch took a deep breath, his hands shaking violently as he continued to hold Effie's. The monitor still showed her heart rate spiking.

"I love you, Effie," Haymitch confessed. Then at that moment, her heart fell into a steady beat.

 _Just like the clouds my eyes will do the same_

 _If you walk away_

 _Everyday it'll rain, rain, rain_

Haymitch's mind had been clouded with fog. He couldn't think straight and he was pretty sure he was going blind and deaf. He was so upset that he had even lost the appetite for alcohol. Effie had left two days ago to head back to the Capitol. She claimed it was only for a couple weeks, but the way she had rushed out of the house told him otherwise. She didn't even bother to say goodbye to Katniss and Peeta.

Having moped around most of the morning, Haymitch decided he had nothing better to do than to actually get out of the house and walk around the District. Nobody paid him any attention, and those that did greeted him with scornful looks. He wasn't particularly favored among the residents, especially after that time he was so drunk he ran around the streets naked and screamed curses at President Snow.

Haymitch made his way to the center of 12 to try and find Ripper. Even though he didn't think he could stomach whiskey, his best bet was to force himself to swallow it.

"Haymitch," Ripper's coarse voice was followed by a polite nod. Haymitch solemnly returned the greeting. He found himself uncomfortable around the one-armed woman, but she supplied him with the strongest liquor in Panem. She was good for something. Haymitch made a gesture with his fingers that suggested that he wanted three bottles of her famous brew. "Something eating you up, boy?" She asked. He just shook his head, desperate to leave the alcohol stand. "Hmm," Ripper scoffed, "It's not like you to get so much of my stuff. Two bottles perhaps, but never more." Haymitch just waved her off.

Thunder shook the Hob and Haymitch looked to the sky. Grey clouds covered the sky, and rain was just starting to pour down. He gave a small wave to Ripper. "Thanks, uh, for the liquor," he said half-heartedly and started to walk out. Lightning was flashing and the rain was coming down in sheets. His hair was clinging to his face and his clothes were getting soiled, but he didn't care. There was no one at home to nag him about how clean or hygienic he was.

Water was dripping down his hands when he finally saw the Victors' Village come into view. A faint light was coming from Katniss and Peeta's shared house, no doubt a fire burning. Haymitch grumbled in jealousy of how easily they managed to find love. However, as he spotted his own house, he saw a small shadow in the distance. Walking quicker, a familiar bright pink wig came into view. Of course the person who adorned said wig had an umbrella to cover it from getting wet. Haymitch got close enough to the figure to confirm his suspicions.

"Effie?" He called out. The strange froze and gave a little jump. It was indeed Effie who turned around to face him. She was carrying a small suitcase in one hand. It looked like the same suitcase she left with. Effie didn't smile. In fact, she looked sad. Her eyes were puffy, as if she had been crying. She didn't respond, but she only let go of the luggage and stepped forward to Haymitch.

"I'm sorry," was all she could manage to say. Nonetheless, her voice cracked. "I should never have left you. I didn't know what went through my head—I thought I needed a break from all of this." She shook her head in disbelief.

"Why did you come back?" That was the only question Haymitch wanted to answer.

"Because no matter how short the time is, I can't stand being apart from you."

That was Haymitch's cue. He rushed forward, grabbing Effie by the waist and pushing his mouth against hers. The sudden shock caused Effie to drop her umbrella. She placed her hands on Haymitch's chest, sinking into the kiss as he moved his hands up and down on her back. Rain was pouring around them, but in truth, Haymitch couldn't ask for a better opportunity to kiss her. When they finally pulled away, Effie's wig and dress were sopping wet.

"Ugh," Effie groaned, "now we're both wet." Haymitch grabbed her hand.

"I guess that means we both have to take a shower, then," Haymitch winked, dragging her inside the house.


	4. My Dilemma

_Song:_ My Dilemma _by Selena Gomez. The first time I heard this song was when it was requested, and I fell in love with it as soon as the first verse was over. Enjoy!_

 _ **He's My Dilemma**_

 _You make me so upset sometimes_

 _I feel like I could lose my mind_

 _The conversation goes no where_

 _Cause you're never gonna take me there_

"Sweetheart, tell me again why I need to make myself presentable," Haymitch yelled through the bathroom door. Effie rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Because," she groaned, raising her voice just a loud, "we are meeting the new Gamemakers. We are _not_ going to make them hate 12 before the Games even start." She could hear the grumbles and huffing coming from the other side of the wall. She had carefully laid out a suit and tie for him to wear, along with instructions on how to shower and get ready according to Capitol standards. But the second Haymitch laid eyes on the dark grey suit, he had started to argue.

Constant bickering were the two words that described Effie and Haymitch's relationship. They could never seem to agree on one thing, and when they did, it was because Haymitch was drunk and Effie would proceed to argue with him about his drinking habits. Effie had no idea how she managed to work with Haymitch all these years, let alone _live_ with him. She insistently reminded him to clean the house, throw away the liquor, and take a bath. No matter how much Haymitch said he hated Effie, at the end of it all he found himself doing what she said. That was the case with the Gamemakers' meeting. At this point, Effie wouldn't care if they were late; she would wait outside his bathroom door until he came out in a suit, all clean and fresh.

"I'm waiting," Effie muttered impatiently. She was trying to stay calm without completely freaking out on him. Although he couldn't see it, she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"Wait all you want," Haymitch gloated, "I know for a fact you won't stand for being late. I know the routine. In fifteen minutes, you're finally going to realize that you trying to persuade me is pointless. You'll give up, go to the meeting, and make up some excuse as to why I'm not there." She could almost hear the apathy in his voice.

But he was right. No matter how much she pleaded, there was no convincing the victor. "Fine," Effie caved. "I'm going to the meeting now." She gathered her things and was just about ready to leave when the bathroom door opened and Haymitch poked his head out.

"See you later," he winked.

 _And I know, what I know_

 _And I know you're no good for me_

 _Yeah I know, that I know_

 _And I know it's not meant to be_

They were both drunk. It was normal for Haymitch, but Effie had been appalled at her behavior. She had overacted a bit too much at District 12's first win in 24 years—with two tributes at that! She had just let herself go at the victory party and by the time she was in the elevator with Haymitch back to their floor, her makeup was smudged and her dress had no hope to be fixed. It was wrinkled and stained in wine in a hundred different places.

"Haymitch," she slurred, tripping over her five inch heels into his arms. "You…are..sooo handsome." She sounded like a six year old as she ran her hands all over his body. Haymitch held on to her, keeping her from collapsing on the ground.

"How many cocktails did you drink, sweetheart?" He asked, laughing as Effie started to play with the buttons on his shirt. She giggled for no apparent reason before answering.

"Seven," she counted on her fingers and smiled when she held up her hands. Haymitch smirked at her. The elevator reached their floor and he led Effie onto the couch in the living room. For once, he was the one coddling and babying her, and not the other way around. Haymitch wrapped a blanket around Effie's small frame after discarding off her shoes. As he turned to go upstairs, she called out for him.

"Haymitch!" She sounded giddy. "I have a secret to tell you." She waved her hand lazily, beckoning him to come closer. When he reached her side, she motioned for him to lean down. Before he could say anything, she reached up and yanked him on top of her. She planted a sloppy kiss on the corner of his mouth and Haymitch gave a small groan of pleasure.

"Stay," Effie demanded, pressing kisses all over his neck and shoulders.

"You really are drunk," Haymitch chided. However, he did the best he could to wrap the blanket around both of them. It was okay for the time being, but Haymitch prayed it would be a while before Effie started vomiting the alcohol.

 _Here's my dilemma_

 _One half of me wants ya_

 _And the other half wants to forget_

It had been months since Effie was back in her old house in the Capitol and Haymitch was with Katniss and Peeta in 12. The first couple weeks were a blur; Effie sobbed for hours and rarely made contact with anyone. After things smoothed out a bit, she started going to small scale parties and clubs. There wasn't a time in her life that she drank more than she did now. She often caught herself opening a whiskey bottle and laughing at herself when she realized she was turning into Haymitch.

She wanted him back. She _needed_ him back. Multiple times a day she would walk through her living room and past a portrait of her, Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta. Of course, she had cut around the kids so she and Haymitch were side by side. She would always freeze in her tracks when she saw the smirk that made her fall for him in the first place. The blue eyes that matched hers exactly. The rough features that she constantly nagged him about.

Effie had an inner battle almost everyday whether or not she should hop on a train and head back to the districts. Or even pick up the phone and call for that matter. But she knew that Haymitch couldn't show his face in the Capitol without being treated like an outsider. And she knew that she couldn't go into the Districts for that same reason.

She wished she could forget everything. From the moment she applied to be an escort to the moment Katniss shot an arrow through President Coin's heart. She wished that she could forget ever meeting Katniss or Peeta. And she wished that she could forget the fact that she fell in love with the District 12 drunkard: Haymitch Abernathy.

 _Tell me what you think, and don't be afraid to request a song!_


	5. Better Off Dead

_Chapter 5: The wonderfully heartbreaking chapter based off_ Better Off Dead _by_ Sleeping With Sirens _(once again requested by_ _ **BlackCat46.**_ _So instead of different prompts based off of different verses, this one is going to be continuous. Enjoy!_

 _(Haymitch might get a little OOC)_

 _She says she wants to end it all_

 _When she's all alone in her room_

 _She cries_

"I am sick and tired of your lazy arrogance," Effie shrieked at Haymitch, waving papers in his face. "This is the sixteenth set of tributes that have died on your watch." Haymitch rolled his eyes. Effie had once again lectured him about his carelessness towards 12's tributes. Only this time—when she saw he wasn't paying attention—she had gone over the top. Her face was red and her wig was askew.

"There's only so much I can do, sweetheart," Haymitch replied, twirling a glass in his hands. Effie's eyes burned a hole into his head.

"But you don't even _try_ ," she was exasperated. Working her nerves was one of Haymitch's favorite things to do, but this time he was really getting her. Angry tears were starting to form in her eyes. "You had the perfect opportunity to save Talia when she was dehydrated and overheated." Effie was referring to their female tribute who had surprisingly survived to the second night. Unfortunately, she had died from exposure to the boiling desert climate.

"What about you?" Haymitch threw back in Effie's direction. "You're the one who gets the money from sponsors." Effie stepped to a dangerously close distance from him, eyebrows furrowing.

"Don't you _dare_ turn this on me," her voice got low. " I do everything in my power to make sure that 12 has a chance. But _you_. All you do is drink your days away and get so drunk you don't even know your own name. You come back and I'm the one who has to deal with it. So don't you _dare_ try and blame me for something that you are supposed to control." She was crying out of anger and shaking furiously.

"Sweetheart, I—" Haymitch began.

"I don't know how you survived in that arena twenty years ago. I don't know how you got people to like you because honestly, Haymitch, I'm surprised our tributes even look at you." Effie threw a disgusted look his way. Before he could retort, Effie added salt to the wound. "Sometimes I think that you should've been one of the 47 tributes who had died during the Quell." Tears were pouring down her face as she turned abruptly on her heels and rushed upstairs. Haymitch stared angrily in her direction until he heard the door slam.

 _When all you've got are these four walls_

 _It's not that hard to feel so small_

 _Or even exist at all_

Haymitch's anger turned into depression as he glared at the whiskey in his glass. As quickly as it had changed to despair, Haymitch's mood shot back up until he was livid once more. He stood up from his seat on the couch and hurled his glass at the wall as hard as he could. He watched the cup shatter into a thousand pieces and the alcohol drip down the wall. Sinking back down into the couch, he buried his face in his hands.

Haymitch started cry. Whether they were tears of frustration or sadness he couldn't tell, but the one thought that took over his mind was: _What if Effie was right?_

What if he should have been one of the 47 tributes who had been killed? What if he should have let the girl with the axe decapitate him? What if he never deserved to live?

Ever since he won the games, alcohol had been his only method of coping with the real world. And he only ever cared about himself. Haymitch always took the lives of the tributes each year for granted. _There's plenty more kids_ , he would always tell Effie. He couldn't care less if they committed suicide, or got dismembered, or got blown up. Maybe that was his problem: shutting everybody out; not showing the slightest bit of emotion for anybody.

 _How come no one heard her when she said_

 _Maybe I'm better off dead_

Haymitch grabbed the knife from his back pocket. He carefully studied his reflection in the glistening blade. Tracing the tip of his fingers with the sharp point, he contemplated what he was about to do.

"Is this what you want, sweetheart?" Haymitch said through a slow flow of tears. "Would you be able to handle all these responsibilities by yourself?" He scowled, but this time at himself. He unbuttoned his shirt and brought the knife above the left side of his chest, unconsciously tracing little patterns into his skin.

He gave a small chuckle when he realized how distraught Effie would be that he got blood all over the white couch. Would she even care that he was gone?

 _If I was would it finally be enough_

 _To shut out all the voices in my head_

 _Maybe I'm better off dead_

Haymitch started to apply pressure to the knife tip into his chest. He grit his teeth when he noticed a bead of blood emerge. He was ready to get it over with and just attack his own body when something caught his eye.

He looked to the left and saw his reflection in the glass door from the moonlight shining in. What he saw was a broken man with bags under his eyes, yellowing skin, and that familiar trace of unhygienic qualities. And this man was ready to take his own life away because someone he had started to care for had insulted him in an unfixable way.

 _Did you hear a word_

 _Hear a word I said?_

"I hope you're ready, sweetheart," Haymitch glanced up the stairs. "Because when you come down those stairs I will be gone. You won't have anyone to help with the tributes anymore. No one is going to care about 12. And you won't ever have a shoulder to cry on again." Haymitch breathed out. Could he do this?

He looked at himself in the glass one final time and closed his eyes. He lifted the hand holding the knife, ready to put some force behind it. But something in his brain clicked.

He dropped the knife, watching it clatter to the ground. Shaking his head in disappointment, he realized what he was just about to do. He couldn't kill himself. Effie was right in a way.

 _This is not where I belong_

He was a coward. Knife already forgotten, he stood up and walked to the sliding glass door that led to the penthouse balcony. From thirty stories up, the Capitol seemed so small. He tip toed outside and leaned on the stone pillars of the balcony. Looking down, he could see people walking along the streets, on their way to late night raves and parties. Even hundreds of feet up, he could tell men from women by their fashion and colorful hair.

Haymitch closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh air. Maybe this was all he needed. Maybe he just needed to step outside for once to calm down. He could already feel the melancholy energy leaving him. And he was no longer furious at Effie. She blew up and she had a right to. Reflecting on the argument, Haymitch could even admit that he needed to start working harder.

 _You're gonna miss me when I'm gone_

 _Gone, gone_

Haymitch suddenly had the urge to climb up on the ledge and stare down. The edge was wide enough to hold his feet, and seemed strong enough to hold his weight. He leaned against the wall of the penthouse and shoved his hands in his pockets. And for once, since he won the games, he smiled. Then he started chuckling, and his giggling turned into hysterics. He couldn't even begin to wonder what Effie would do when she saw the knife on the ground and his shirt strewn on the couch. And then once she glanced out the window….

His thoughts were interrupted by a scream. He jumped, and latched onto a ledge protruding from the wall to gain his balance so he didn't fall for real.

"Haymitch, no!" He turned around to see Effie practically sprinting onto the balcony. Her face was white, she was breathing heavily, and she hadn't stopped crying. She rushed to his side and yanked him down from the balcony. "What do you think you're doing?" She didn't sound angry; she sounded relieved that he wasn't broken in a million places, laying dead on the sidewalk two hundred feet below.

"I'm fine," was all Haymitch could say. Effie continued rambling.

"I came out of the room to try and talk to you again but you were gone. I saw your shirt on the ground, next to a knife. Then I looked out the window and saw you _standing on a ledge_. Honestly, Haymitch, what were you thinking?" He just shrugged his shoulders. Effie's breaths came out shakily. They stared at each other in silence before Effie rushed in and wrapped her arms around his waist, crying into his bare chest.

"Don't _ever_ do that again," Effie lightly scolded in between waves of tears. "I couldn't live with myself if you died because of me. I'm sorry." Haymitch tightened his embrace around her.

"Don't apologize, sweetheart," Haymitch shook his head. "You were right: I don't do enough work to help our tributes. But I'd like to start." Effie pulled away and looked up at him, smiling a bit.

"Okay," she said. "But don't go dying on me. We can be the next Romeo and Juliet for all I care. I just don't want you to leave me." She leaned in a placed a light, slow kiss on his lips. After she pulled away, she escaped his grip. "I mean it." Effie said, walking back into the penthouse.

 _You're gonna miss me when I'm gone_

 _Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to tell me what you think, and make sure to request songs!_


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